


what of the body isn't an unbecoming

by NullLit



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Aftercare, Alcina Dimitrescu/OC, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Because slowburns hurt so good, Blood Drinking, Blood Magic, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, But Not For Awhile, But theres more blood involved, Consensual Sex, Cunnilingus, Eventual Smut, F/F, Finger Sucking, Girl Penis, Graphic Descriptions of the Torture Cellar from the demo, Height Differences, Human/Vampire Relationship, I mean happy endings may be subjective, I wrote this instead of working lmao, Im gay for tall women, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Lady Dimitrescu/OC, Monsters, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, OC cries a lot sorry but this shit is stressful, OC is literally an innocent sweet angel that oozes kindess, Oops, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Slow Burn, Soft sex, Sorry Not Sorry, THERE IS PLOT, Tentacle Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vampire Bites, Vampires, Werewolves, Witches, and fucking zombies i guess, and im pretty sure you would too, and worldbuilding, because 8ft vampire goddess go brrrrr, because I hate myself, because Lady Dimitrescu could prolly do that, but i hate you all more, but it all turns consensual i swear, but its not too bad i promise, i cannot stress this enough but id die happy if it were by a big titty vampire, i guess its more like alcohol than drugs but w/e, i hate zombies tho, id let the vampire lady step on me and so would OC ok?, kind of? i think the wine would fuck up a human, mild choking, mild spanking, so do with that what you will, the following tags are for the SMUT later:, vampires have no sense of boundaries is all, why else would you be reading this shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:34:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29158968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NullLit/pseuds/NullLit
Summary: Clara closed her eyes, and let a dart on a map decide her fate. She'd chosen to run from her past before she even realized it and somehow the young woman found herself in some backwoods village in Transylvania. The house she bought is close to caving in on her, the villagers do not trust her, and she seems to have unknowingly caught the interest of the most dangerous creature within a hundred mile radius.In other words, Clara Winters has real shit luck.(or, the author is obsessed with Tall Hot Vampire Lady and the new RE Game and takes creative liberties with the minor knowledge we have about these things.)
Relationships: Lady Dimitrescu (Resident Evil)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 163
Kudos: 575





	1. in dreams

**Author's Note:**

> That's the thing about ghosts, isn't it? No matter how far you run, how much you repent, they will always haunt you.

_“Deliver this to the castle,”_ _  
_ _  
_ Why had she agreed to take the package up during the storm? It had already been so cold, and she’d gotten lost. Clara wasn’t familiar with the landscape yet, she’d just moved to the village. She was just trying to be nice to the older woman, maybe then the villagers wouldn’t be so distant with her - the only outsider.   
  
It had taken her forever to reach the towering gates, stomach twisting in dismay as the sun set and the landscape was plunged into darkness. Clara was cold and tired, and the path leading to the castle entrance was long yet. She wasn’t aware of how lucky she was that the surrounding darkness saved her from the harrowing outdoor decor, and the eyes that watched her approach from one of the highest windows.   
  
_The door is open, but it’s snowing?_ The young woman paused at the top of the stairs, brows furrowed in confusion as she hesitated. From what she could see, the inside of the castle was _gorgeous,_ the walls were cream colored and the decor ranged from a deep shade of crimson to an assortment of dark purples. Clara longed desperately to step in further and take in the beauty closer, but that would be horribly rude.   
  
“Hello?” She called from the doorway, package a heavy weight in her hands. Whatever it was, it was fairly large, almost bottle shaped but not quite. “Your door is open, I’ve brought a package from Mrs. Guérin.”   
  
Silence. The woman frowned, shivering as a particularly strong breeze tugged at her scarf, loosening the white fabric. She couldn’t fix it while her hands were full though. Clara watched nervously as the fire in the grand fireplace flickered once the gust of wind made its way inside, but no one answered her call. It was too cold to leave outside, but it would still be rude to enter the castle without permission.   
  
Hesitantly, she took a half step in to gently set the wrapped parcel upon the polished marble floor, right in front of the door so it couldn’t be easily missed. As she stood, another strong gust of wind caught her scarf and before the young woman could do anything it had been ripped from her neck. A wail followed the breeze, jolting her in surprise. For the briefest of moments, she felt as if phantom fingers trailed down her spine but when she spun around there was no one there.   
  
_Where did my scarf go?_   
  
She hadn’t seen which way it went when the storm carried it away, but it wasn’t within sight in the castle which meant it must have been carried off outside. Cheeks flushed from the cold, she wrapped her arms around herself before edging back. “I’m sorry, I’ve left it here for you.” Should she close the doors? They were wide open, it was strange and eerie, but they looked to be made from some kind of heavy metal. She wasn’t even sure she could move them if she’d wanted to.   
  
Another biting breeze paired with a wail, and her decision was made for her. Clara hurried away in the direction she came from, left to ponder on her journey back if the scream had come from the wind, because for a moment it had sounded as if it came from within the castle.

* * *

  
Sleep didn’t come easily that night, despite being so cold her fingers were numb and tired from the horribly long walk, Clara had found herself tossing and turning all night. She dreamed of those fancy cream colored walls and the beautiful decor and, oddly enough, a tall woman in a white dress.   
  
She found herself awake early the next morning, shivering in her tiny bed and wishing not for the first time that the heat worked in this little house. All things considered, Clara wasn’t one to complain. She’d moved to this village, far from everyone she knew to escape the ghosts of her past. The house had been a major sell, though that was probably because it was on the edge of town and one bad snow storm away from caving in on itself.   
  
At some point in the night her meager fireplace had dimmed to nothing more than dull embers, leaving the room bathed in dim shadows and a coldness so fierce the woman could see her breath. _I don’t want to._ She should have picked a beach town, it was too cold here.   
  
In the end though, she’d dragged herself out of bed and made her way into the village with a cup of coffee in hand.   
  
“You’re here,” Mrs. Guérin sounded displeased, if not oddly impressed. Clara wasn’t sure why, she’d stopped to let the woman know her package had been dropped off but the elder lady was staring at her as if she’d seen a ghost.   
  
“Yeah, are you not open? I’m sorry, I was just letting you know I dropped it off.” She offered a smile that was met with a deepening frown, which wasn't surprising but still saddening. She'd gone out of her way on more than one occasion to be friendly with the villagers but every time she tried it was as if they disliked her even more than before. It was confusing and upsetting, and Clara left without another word once the old woman had disappeared into the back room to continue her work.   
  
The village was painfully small. There was only one food store and one clothing store, both connected by a covered awning that was tilting weird and shook with every passing wind. The bank was run down, and closed more often than not. There was a feed store, set up for the local farmers, but that was about it really. The one place she hadn't dared to step foot in yet was the bar or the chapel, whenever she got close the locals glared at her hard enough to make Clara's stomach turn. Maybe she would end up a recluse in her house, only venturing out when in need for more food. Maybe they would all warm up to her after she'd lived her longer.   
  
The woman had just stepped into the market when she was abruptly shoved back outside. She tripped over one of the loose floorboards, tumbling past the three stairs that had lead up to the store and landing in a heap in the snow. Never before had any of the townspeople been so unhappy with her to lay hands on her, but the man that stepped out was the owner. She blinked up at him, a little dazed at the violence. Her coffee had wasted, split into and melted the snow.   
  
"You need to go home," He snapped, barely glancing at where she still lay on the ground as he snapped the shutters into place over the windows. One of them was almost falling off, he should probably get that fixed. 

"I...I need more bread?" She felt stupid, and from the pointed look the man threw at her she sounded stupid. Still, he disappeared into the store and reappeared. The loaf of bread that was tossed at her almost hit Clara right in the face. It was also awfully fresh, which was weird because she could only remember him selling her borderline stale bread.   
  
"Go home, lock your doors, don't come out until the morning." She started at his words, clumsily climbing to her feet and cradling the bread to her chest as if it were precious. The man shook her head when she went to pull out her money, his eyes nervously flicking toward the crow that seemed to be watching them from a nearby tree. "Go, now! Don't burn a fire either! They still think your house is empty, maybe you'll get lucky."   
  
She didn't have to be told twice, despite how confused she was, Clara booked it back to her house.   
  
The coffee cup was discarded and forgotten about, but the next morning when she dared to venture out it was gone.   
  
So was Mrs. Guérin.


	2. one thing we have in common

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow bites, blood falls, and the monster calls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hung pictures of patron saints up on my wall to remind me i am a fool. tell me where i came from, what I will always be.

The dream started the same as always.   
  
_"Clara, I don't know if I'm going to make it." He was breathing hard on the other side of the phone, voice little more than a whisper. "I love you, stay saf-" The call cut out before anything else could be heard. Was that chainsaws in the background? What was going on? She needed to find him, whatever mess he'd gotten caught up in she'd promised she'd always look out for him.  
  
There was a fire, two children huddled together in the back of a car. Everything was distorted though, every time she blinked it was as if she'd lost a few minutes. Voices echoed, filtering in and out of focus, vision shifting like a kaleidoscope and then-   
  
"Clara!"   
  
**Bang**  
  
_ Some promises couldn't be kept. Clara shuddered in her bed, skin slick with sweat. The days were growing darker and colder, and the times she'd been instructed to hide away with the lights off and fire not burning were increasing rapidly. It was always the same store keeper that warned her, even if the others seemed to disapprove. The strangest thing was that she didn't know _why_ any of it was necessary. Any questions answered with harsh silence and not much else.   
  
This seemed to be a common theme in her life.   
  
The woman shuffled out of bed, tugging her blanket and wearing it like a cape as she made her way toward the tiny kitchen. The light flickered when she flipped it on but cast away the shadows with a dim glow that allowed her to turn on the stove with ease and fill her kettle. Clara had never been much of a tea drinker, but she'd read once that it could help with stress and had picked up the habit ever since. It was a bit of a shame that the selection at the market was so lacking, even more so that no company was willing to deliver to some village in the middle of bum fuck no where, so she made due with what she had on hand.   
  
_**Bang**_

Water sloshed onto the stove top, sizzling as it met the red hot burner. She turned around, blue eyes wide and set on her front door. Had she imagined it? Was it not the nightmare that woke her up after all? She stood in silence for several minutes, one hand clutching her blanket and the other holding the kettle with a white knuckled grip as shadows danced in the edges of her vision. The silence stretched until her tense shoulders eased and she felt comfortable enough to turn around to properly place the kettle onto the stove top. When she was a child her father had always said she had an over active imagination, it was easy enough to chalk it up to just her paranoia.   
  
Clara reasoned, as she poured two scoops of loose leaf green tea into the boiling water, perhaps the towns people would only like her once she was as strange and as superstitious as they were. The young woman was already a bit strange in her own way, she didn't see why paranoid fanatic needed to be added to the list. She stepped away from the stove, planning to start a fire and warm up the cold house so she might sleep better.   
  
_**Bang!**_

She wasn't imagining it, there was no way she was going outside though. Clara may have chosen the shiftiest village to move to in the entire world at the whim of a thrown dart but she wasn't dumb enough to go tromping around outside in the middle of the night to ask whatever was banging on her front door to _please stop_. No, the woman had more self preservation than your average horror movie female protagonist. With a shaking hand she flicked back off the kitchen light first and then the stove. The sound of the wind howling outside was so loud she doubted for a second if it really was the wind or not.   
  
It seemed she would not be getting any sleep tonight. The storm was picking up and even though that old store keeper hadn't warned her to keep her lights off today she followed her instincts and curled up in the furthest corner of her bed, back to the wall under her pile of blankets. As a child, Clara had adopted the _if you cant see me, I cant see you_ mindset. Even if she knew it wasn't true, comfort was still drawn from ducking under the blankets and squeezing her eyes shut so hard that her head ached.   
  
"If you can't see me, I can't see you." She whispered, voice small and trembling.  
  
 _ **BANG!  
  
**_ _If I can't see you._   
  


* * *

Days and night passed in a similar fashion. None of the people in town seemed to care what became of her except for Mr. Thomas, the man who ran the food market. Every night around two in the morning the banging would begin, last night had found Clara curled up in her bathtub with her blankets, shaking from the cold and the terror of the unknown that was haunting her.   
  
Where could you escape to when you'd already run away?   
  
The soup burned her lips, having been so absorbed by the book she was reading to remember to blow on her food. Getting lost in some fantasy world was much more preferable compared to the life she was currently living, reading was one of the few escapes that Clara really found in her mundane life. When she was ensnared in a book it was easier to push away the nightmares and sleepless nights and anxiety, it was easier to simply _breathe._ Still, no matter how much she enjoyed the escape it wouldn't help if she hurt herself at any given opportunity.   
  
Putting the book down, she dutifully ate half the soup before wandering off to find some chapstick to ease the burn.   
  
_Weird, I thought it left it right here by the window._ The blonde frowned at her desk, sifting through her bag once more before letting out a huff of defeat. She'd always had a bad habit of losing little things like chapstick, but just yesterday she'd realized her hair brush was also missing. Was the lack of sleep really leaving her so scatterbrained? Unwilling to dig through the trash for any accidental tosses, Clara shrugged on her coat and boots and headed to the market to replace her missing items.   
  
It was only a five minute walk through the village from her house, but she was so tired she wasn't sure if the feeling of eyes following her every movement was just pure paranoia or not. She made it inside the store without incident this time, noting there was no one at the front counter with only mild interest as she ducked down the aisle labeled Personal Care. Clara blew hot air onto her icy hands as she browsed, not at all surprised at the little clouds her breath produced. The village barely had functioning electricity and it was never reliable enough to power an actual heating system so most places only used fireplaces for warmth. 

The fireplace in the market was in the backroom, which likely explained the emptiness behind the counter. Still, the second she approached Mr. Thomas ambled out, friendly expression dipping into indifference at the sight of the young woman. Despite how disheartening constant rejection was she kept her smile firmly in place, beaming up at the older man as she handed over her items of choice. Silence was only broken by the beep of the old machine as he marked down her purchase and came to the total. He had never charged her for that loaf of bread,   
  
"Tha-"   
  
"No fire tonight," He snapped, interrupting her as if her politeness personally offended him. Maybe it was easier to be rude to someone if they were rude back, would that make it easier for him, she wondered. Taking into consideration the new train of thought, Clara absently nodded and accepted the paper bag from him after handing over her money. She hadn't lit a fire in a week now, not at night at least, but she wasn't sure how well received it would be for her to confide that something was harassing her throughout the night.   
  
"Right, thanks." She half turned, content to go home and get the inside of the house as warm as possible before night fell, but words fell from her lips before she even understood what she was saying. She'd always had a problem filtering herself, the village had proven to be a test in of itself. "Why do you warn me?"   
  
Surprised blue eyes stared right back into Mr. Thomas brown eyes, noting that he was less surprised than she was but still not expecting the abrupt question. His face tightened, expression becoming so sour he looked as if he'd swallowed a lemon. The silence stretched so long that Clara was just about to turn tail and run but, _no-_ she was tired of not getting any answers. He could give her this if nothing else. The older man seemed to recognize the stubborn set of her jaw, because for the first time his cold mask faded to show something more. 

Mr. Thomas actually laughed, but he didn't sound happy.   
  
"You remind me of my daughter."   
  
It was the saddest laugh Clara had ever heard.

* * *

It looked like everyone was already closing down for the night, windows blocked off and thick plums of smoke winding into the sky as families tried to warm up their homes before dark fell. The girl was hurrying home, eager to do the same. She planned to start a fire and take the hottest shower her water heater would allow before trying to get to bed early so the 2AM calling wouldn't leave her so tired. 

_That's weird,_ Clara paused outside her house, eyes set on the door that was ajar. She'd locked it though, hadn't she? The bag slipped from numb fingers as she found herself rushing forward, throwing open the door to her house. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting to see, maybe a raccoon going through the trash but...it didn't look like anything was misplaced. No, that was wrong. She noticed after walking through that all of her blankets were gone, so were her coats and the neat little stack of firewood she had. 

She turned, going to retrieve her bag from outside and- there was a rabbit nailed to the inside of her door, snow white fur stained crimson from where a long nail had been struck through it's neck. _You're Next._ Written with the rabbits blood on the door, it was just a baby. All she could hear was static, a faint buzzing that grew in tempo until it was all consuming.   
  
_You're Next._

A single tear slipped past unblinking eyes, leaving a cool wet trail down Clara's face as her stomach lurched and she suddenly found herself leaning over her toilet, the soup making a reappearance. The young woman spent a good five minutes hunched over the toilet, sobbing and choking as her brain tried to make sense of what had happened and _why_. She had to get moving though, the sun would be setting soon and-

Her stomach coiled again, realizing what she had to do and actually doing it were two different things. The floor board next to the toilet creaked loudly as she stood, but the white noise made her feel fuzzy. Everything felt mechanical, Clara turned on the stove and placed the largest pot she owned filled with water on the burner. She went outside to collect the bag while she waited for the water to boil. There were tracks in the snow, tracks that weren't her own, leading back into the village. 

Anger was easier than sadness, anger came hot and fast like a burning inferno. Anger would warm her up where sadness left the young woman numb and cold, but she couldn't bring herself to be angry. Whatever she'd done, it was bad enough to offend an entire village of people, how could she blame them for how they felt about some random person who decided to plop down in the middle of their home and make themselves comfortable. Maybe she should have tried harder, gone to the bar on Friday nights, Sunday Service in the chapel, maybe she should have tried to get a job despite not needing one.   
  
Maybe she should have tried harder to immerse herself in the village so she wasn't as much of an outsider.   
  
_You're Next._   
  
Whatever she'd done, was there a way for her to apologize for it? Maybe she could ask Mr. Thomas.   
  
She didn't follow the tracks, she knew it would lead to her to the culprits and their homes but Clara was _tired._ Instead, she got a shovel out of the shed in the back and picked a spot. It took a few pots of boiling water to melt down the snow and soften the ground deep enough but after forty minutes she'd managed to dig a decent sized hole. The sun was drooping, darkness setting in, and the sweat that had collected upon her skin was freezing over leaving her a shuddering achy mess. The worst part was prying the nail free from her door to get the rabbit down.   
  
It's little body was ice cold, unmoving and unnaturally stiff beneath her hands and it took everything in her not to throw up again. Instead, she cradled the little bunny to her chest, not caring that her now only jacket was getting stained or about the blood drying on her hands and under her nails. Clara buried the animal, marking its grave with a few heavy stones she'd had a genuinely hard time moving. She brought the shovel inside with her, left it propped against the kitchen counter.   
  
They'd left her no jackets, only the sheets on her bed, no fire wood, and the shops were already closed. _Are they really trying to freeze me out?_ She dragged a hand through her hair, wincing when her fingers snagged on a knot. She forgot about the blood, now smeared in her hair. She'd also forgotten the pot outside. The woman sighed, trudging back out into the partial dark to fetch the pot from outback. The last thing she'd been expecting when she rounded the corner was for someone to be standing right in front of her house.   
  
Clara yelped, the pot slipped from her cold fingers and landed in the snow with a dull thud.   
  
There stood the tallest woman she'd ever seen. Literally, compared to her own five foot two, this lady had to be at _least_ eight feet tall, if not more. If she were being honest, Clara was used to people being tall than her, but this was...her mouth felt dry and she was suddenly very aware of what she looked like.   
  
"Hello there," The woman turned to face her fully, red painted lips curling upwards into a pretty smile. Despite the weather, the stranger was in a white dress with only a heavy looking fur coat to block out the cold. At some point it had started to snow, and little flurries were collecting on the woman's wide brimmed hat. 

_Oh,_ Blue eyes blinked stupidly up at the woman. After what could be considered an awfully shitty day there was suddenly an angel right in front of her. That was nice, maybe the universe was trying to make up for all of the bullshit from the last eight years. The silence stretched, and with it so did the woman's smile. It took a minute for Clara to realize she was waiting patiently for a response and her cheeks flushed hot. The first attractive person she's seen since moving to this dumb little village and she was acting like a smooth brained moron.   
  
"I-Uh..Hi?" _Great job, you sure sounded smart there Einstein._ "Can um...I help you?"   
  
The woman laughed, the sound like a thousand tinkling bells and chimes caught in the wind. It made her knees feel weak, even weaker when the tall woman closed more of the distance between them. Her smile didn't slip once, and something in Clara lurched. _Someone is being nice to me._ It had been almost three months, three months of no human contact, no friendly smiles or shared jokes.   
  
No genuine laughs. 

The air stuttered in her lungs as she tipped her head back to look at the woman, aware that her gaze was reminiscent to how one looked upon the stars on a cloudless night but not having the energy to be too embarrassed about that. 

"Perhaps I should be asking you that, my dear." The woman leaned down some, catching a blood stained strand of Clara's blonde hair between two gloved fingers. "Are you hurt?"   
  
The proximity gifted Clara new sights to see, like how the woman's skin was as white as the snow that fell, or how her eyes were the strangest shade of golden yellow almost like a jar of honey - warm and yet cold at the same time. The delicate slope of her nose, how her perfectly sculpted neck was bare despite the bite that came with every passing breeze, her full lips. _An actual angel._ As if reading her thoughts, the woman's eyes sparkled and her smile tilted into something a little more genuinely amused. 

"No, I was um...there was an animal. Someone killed it, I just buried it." God, she sounded dumb. And a little crazy. Who buries a perfectly good, edible animal in the middle of winter? Idiots, thats who. Still, the woman's expression was hard to read. If anything, she just looked horribly interested in everything that Clara had to say. That was new.   
  
"You poor thing," The woman coo'd, tucking the strand of hair behind her ear. Leather skimmed along her jawline, when she blinked she thought for a moment she'd felt that same leather brush along her bottom lip but it had been a fraction of a second. By the time she'd opened her eyes once more the woman's hand was back at her side and that same little smile hadn't slipped in the slightest. "It sounds like you've had such a dreadful day, I was coming into town to inquire about some wine ingredients, but I believe this belongs to you?" 

From inside her coat came a familiar white scarf.   
  
Clara's mouth fell open into a perfect 'O', surprise written across her face as she blinked up at the woman. She started to ask how she'd found it because she'd been so sure the storm had carried it off, but the woman beat her to it.   
  
"You delivered a package, right? I believe you lost this, it seemed sensible for me to return it." When had she stepped closer? The woman towered over Clara, reaching out to wrap the scarf around her neck as if she were made of the most fragile glass. Leather clad fingers brushed across her neck, right over her pulse. Her eyes fluttered shut on their own accord, something hot coiling in her stomach. Something wet and warm followed the touch of the woman's fingers on her neck, but just as blue eyes snapped back open her brain short circuited.   
  
The woman was leaning down, so close to her that their noses were almost touching. The smell was the first thing she noticed, whatever perfume the woman was wearing was as beautiful as she was. She smelled like the ocean, fresh water with a hint of something sweet and floral and Clara couldn't control the deep breath in she took.   
  
"Thank you for delivering my package, sweetling." The strange woman was all she could focus on, everything else was blotted from existence as she moved even closer. It was bizarre, as if she couldn't control herself, she should have stepped back and away from the arm that was curling around her waist but she couldn't. Her whole body felt hot and cold, breath frozen in her lungs and vision going fuzzy-  
  
" _Clara!_ "   
  
She jolted like a rubber band had been snapped against her head, neck jerked toward the sound of the familiar voice just as the woman smoothly stepped back as if she hadn't been about to...to what? Hug her? Pick her up? Why did nothing in this god forsaken village make sense. Mr. Thomas was headed towards them with the most panicked expression she'd even seen on his face. The woman seemed unbothered, if a little sullen. 

"Mr. Thomas? Are you okay?" She took half a step towards him and the woman twitched but when she darted a glance towards her she seemed to be inspecting her gloves. He paused a few steps away from them, eyes only set on the giant goddess of a woman rather than herself. _Yeah, thats fair._   
  
There was a heavy pause as she stared at him while he stared at the woman who seemed astoundingly uninterested in whatever he wanted, it was a complete flip from the rapt attention she'd gifted Clara and for some reason that made her feel...something. _I need to get out more._ What the hell was wrong with her? Getting all gooey because some random lady was giving her a dash of attention.   
  
"Clara, you should come stay with us tonight." _That_ was surprising, even the woman looked suddenly interested. _Why am I watching her?_ She'd tilted her head, golden eyes narrowing just a fraction. "You're heater is broken, it's going to storm hard tonight."   
  
"Oh, um, okay. Let me go grab a change of clothes." He waved a hand at her, dismissing what she said in an instant. "We have clothes at the house, we should go before the sun sets fully."   
  
Why did he sound so scared? Clara had never been out after dark before, was the wildlife really that bad here? The woman's expression went from vaguely interested to that of stone, the little smile she'd worn earlier melting away completely.   
  
"Well, okay. Will...you be ok? You've got to go back up to the castle, right?" The woman turned back towards Clara, interest like a beacon of fire shinning in her gorgeous eyes. The little smile was back, curving the corners of her lips and making her heart skip a beat.   
  
"I'll be fine, run along now darling." Her voice was so captivating, but Mr. Thomas was there to pull her away. "You wouldn't want the big bad wolf to catch you out after dark."  
  
When they reached his house she turned around to see if the woman was still there.   
  
She didn't see the eyes that watched from the trees. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for the kudos and comments <3 they literally inspire me so much to write. I have so many ideas and plot bunnies swirling around in my head I'm desperate to get them out and I've all but devoured the other 23 stories that have been made so far. I'm just happy to add to the flood. 
> 
> There is a mystery in the village thats not just for Clara to solve, but you all too. Why are they trying to run her out? What happened to the last owner of her house? Maybe we'll find out in chapter 3~ let me know what ya'll think so far!!


	3. neither of us will be missed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> accept the risk of dying, because if you're just surviving you're not truly living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the mystery unravels like a loose spool of thread, dragging through a pool of blood. 
> 
> no one is safe.

Mr. Thomas had been silent once they entered the house, not commenting on the blood or the strange exchange. Instead, he led her upstairs to what seemed to be an unused room. 

"There are clothes in the closet and the bathroom is right there. You'll sleep in here tonight." He paused at the door, frowning at the dust that had collected along the room's surfaces. "Come down when you're ready to eat." 

And then she was alone. 

The room was...odd. Musty and dusty as if it hadn't been used in some time. Judging from the layout, this must have been his daughter's room.  _ Maybe she left the village. _ But the closet was full, none of the girls personal items were missing.  _ Maybe she ran away too. _

Clara hoped she ran away, because she knew the truth was probably a lot sadder. 

She picked the first nightgown she found. It was all white, the front of it lacy and sheer just below her collarbones, same with the bottoms of the sleeves. It fell a little below her knees, meaning that his daughter had likely been taller than she was. Typical, everyone was taller than her. 

Their water heater was about as weak as her own so Clara took a colder than average shower, lest she took up the little hot water Mr. Thomas and his wife had before they get a chance to shower for the night. She left the rest of her clothes carefully folded up by her shoes, only pausing when she looked down at the scarf that had been returned to her. The fabric was just as pristine and soft as when she'd lost it, not a single speck of dirt in sight. 

Where had it flown off to?

Before she realized what she was doing she had to fabric to her nose, taking a tentative breath in. Her lungs were instantly flooded with the same perfume the woman had worn, fresh water and floral with a hint of sweetness. Clara had never smelled anything like it, she didn't even own any perfumes except for one that had been a gift and she was pretty sure it had been tossed in the move. 

She hadn't realized that the foggy feeling diminished after her shower. 

She hadn't realized the tiny blot of blood that was on her neck, right over her pulse, was not that of the rabbits.   


* * *

Though the floorboards were cool against her bare feet but the house was significantly warmer than her own, perhaps it was better insulated. Nervously, Clara made her way down the stairs and back down the dimly lit hall towards where she could hear Mr. Thomas and his wife. Blue eyes automatically sought the pictures lining the walls, echoes of what was once a happy family lit in the dark hallway. There were several photos of the Thomas family, most with a little blonde child in the frame. The further down the hall she ventured the older the child grew until she was a young woman roughly around Clara's own age of early twenties. 

Mr. Thomas was right, they looked a little alike. Similar complexions and hair colors, though the girl in the photos seemed to have brown eyes like her father and a birthmark on her left cheek. She was pretty though, prettier than Clara thought she was herself. 

"That's Laura," The blonde girl jumped a foot in the air, jerking around to find Mr.Thomas at the end of the hall. She could still hear noises coming from the door behind him, meaning that Mrs. Thomas was likely still preparing dinner for them. She felt like she was intruding, coming in and using their hot water, eating their food, wearing their daughters clothes. 

"I'm sorry," He didn't seem surprised at the apology, or even upset. Mr. Thomas just looked so tired, more tired than she'd ever seen someone look before. 

"I couldn't save her," His voice was low, so quiet she'd almost missed what he said. "I don't think I can save you, either." 

"Save me?" Her breath hitched, fear rushing through her veins like ice. "What are you trying to save me from?" 

"They take our girls, we had to find a way to bargain with them. You've lasted the longest but I-" 

" _ Florin _ !" Mrs. Thomas had opened the door behind him. 

"Who takes the girls? What bargain?" The silence stretched and with it so did Clara's patience. She was tired of half answers and questions met with avoidance. She opened her mouth to tell Mr. Thomas just how put out she was when there was suddenly a bang at the front door. 

"They've decided to do it tonight." His wife spoke up, eyes hard set as her gaze bore down on the younger woman. 

"Distract them, Melinda." There was no room for argument in his tone, there was a slight pause then- 

"She is  _ not _ La-" 

" _ I know!"  _

Mrs. Thomas looked stricken for a moment before defeat seemed to set in. With out more mulish glance towards Clara she headed toward the front door and Mr. Thomas started to drag her towards what she presumed was the back exit. 

"Go!" He all but shoved her outside. "Don't stop for anything if you want to see the light of day again!"  


* * *

It was snowing hard, wind and tree branches ripping at Clara's nightgown as she ran through the woods. The cold air burned her lungs and her bare feet ached from the cold but she couldn't stop, they were so close behind her. 

_ I don't want to die.  _ Her desperation was palpable, tears streaming down her face and blinding the poor girl as she stumbled into trees and over jagged rocks, cutting up the palms of her hands and the soles of her feet and leaving bloody footprints behind her. 

She made it so far, but ultimately Clara knew she was running nowhere. If she wasn't killed by the villagers she'd be killed by the conditions or the wildlife. She was fighting a losing battle, it would be so much easier to just- 

She stumbled and crashed into the snow. 

"Please," She hadn't realized she was sobbing, body shaking as her adrenaline died away and left her nothing more than a cold, scared girl in the middle of the woods. The villagers were closing in on her, she could see the flickering lights of their torches. 

Ahead of her was a creature emerging from the woods, body a mass of muscle and patchy fur. Intelligent eyes met her drooping gaze, far too intelligent for any normal wolf. In a whoosh all of her fight vanished, maybe it was because the creature had such a familiar golden-yellow gaze or maybe she just was too tired to care. 

Darkness swallowed Clara, and she knew nothing else. 

* * *

If only waking up was as peaceful as her descent into unconsciousness had been. Where falling asleep had happened like a curtain being abruptly shut, waking up felt like someone was driving a nail into her skull. 

The first thing Clara noticed was the  _ smell _ , it was sickly sweet and putrid. The next thing was how much her entire body ached, especially her feet. The woman sat up with a quiet whimper, the wooden plank like bed she'd been placed on jostled the chains securing it to the wall. She felt sick, stomach twisting in knots as she tried to focus on her surroundings and make sense of where she was. 

Gone was the forest and in its place was a poorly kept cell. 

She was locked up in a cell. 

"No," She threw herself off the bed, the thin little blanket that had been placed over her fell to the stone floor and so did she the moment any pressure was put on her feet. Clara collapsed with a choked sob, hands fluttered uselessly as she tried to take in the damage. If she had a guess, the pain was from the assortment of cuts on the bottom of her feet and from what looked like a case of minor frostbite. The skin was red and almost blistering in some spots, and still cold to the touch. 

_ Five minutes. _ She allowed herself five minutes to freak out and cry, breathing became a struggle as she choked and sobbed. Despite being painfully confused there was a hopelessness setting in, she knew there was no chance of breaking out of a cell. 

_ I'm going to die.  _

The dungeon was eerily quiet, the only sounds that of dripping water and her struggle against the wall to stand up. A balled up piece of paper fell from between two bricks, landing right in her lap. The contents were less than comforting, the key to escape soaked in blood, light leading to salvation, a ladder? The entire note was mysterious and confusing and it looked like it had been written ages ago, the paper browned with the passage of time. 

There was moldy bread in a bowl on the floor of the bed, rusted tin cans pushed aside as she crawled towards the hole that had been busted through the brick wall. Whoever the person who left the note must have been of similar size to Clara, because the gap was almost painfully tiny. She emerged into a new cell, happy to note that this one was unlocked and open. If she left, there was no telling what would happen to her, she had no way of knowing if the last person who tried to escape was successful or not but anything had to be better than waiting in a cell for someone to come decide her fate. So, Clara ventured out of the cell and into the dungeon. 

She wished desperately that she hadn't. 

The cold of stone floor sunk into her bones, feet aching with every step. The entire dungeon was disgusting, blood splattered upon the walls was the least of her issues though, not when there was an old woman with a pair of pliers sticking out of her back. 

She wasn't sure how much time she lost, standing at the foot of the cell, looking down at the dead body. Clara felt as if she was stuck in a never ending nightmare, but the key she needed to escape was in one of the chained doors. Pulling the pliers from flesh and bone was enough to make her vomit, but her stomach was empty. 

The body charred and hanging, the pile of bones, the bucket of blood that left her arm stained up to the elbow. There were bodies suspended from the ceiling, bloated and rotting from being up there for so long. It was all a nightmare, but nothing could have prepared her for the barrels gushing something that couldn't possibly be wine, low weak groans coming from behind the wooden surfaces. 

_ It's all just a nightmare. _

The bloody dining room, the hand twitching from the crack in the barrel. 

Maybe it wasn't a nightmare, maybe she was dead and this was hell. How else would the candles in this secret passage be lit, if not for someone else having lit them before she ventured through the depths of the castle. Was this all just an elaborate trick? Some kind of sick head game, perhaps. 

Covered in grime and blood, Clara emerged from the passage into what seemed to be a dressing room. She followed the sounds of bellowing voices, allowing the noise to lead her to freedom.

"-ave you a maiden! We had an agreement!" The rage filled shouts echoed off elegant cream and gold walls. She was in shock, moving on autopilot toward the noise when she really should have been trying to find a window to clamber out of.

"Mother no longer likes the terms that were set, you dare question her?" An unfamiliar, feminine voice followed by a pretentious laugh. "You're fools."

"You promised me a sacrifice, but what has been offered is  _ far _ from some simple  _ meal. _ " That familiar voice, laced with an anger that made the room seem impossibly cold. "I should string you all up and let the blood drain from your eye sockets for being so blind to such a treasure."

"Shall I go fetch her, Mother?" Another voice, softer than the first. There was a pause, and then the laugh that followed sent chills down Clara's spine. 

"She's already here, come out little one." Her voice was a comforting timber, luring her out from the wall she'd been hiding behind before she could even begin to comprehend what an awful idea that was. The area was familiar, the grand fireplace was lit just as it had been when she'd ventured up all those months ago. However, now there was a row of villagers kneeling in front of the fireplace and three unfamiliar women standing around them. At the head of it all was the tall woman, the one Mr. Thomas seemed so scared of but had been so kind. 

"Lady Dimitrescu,  _ please _ don't-" Mr. Thomas was amongst the villagers, his left eye blackened and swelling shut. There was a flurry of motion, a swarm of bugs erupting from one of the three woman- no, it  _ was _ one of them. She squeezed her eyes shut, too surprised at the feeling of hands reaching out from the flurry to catch on her arms. 

Clara found herself in front of the tall woman, Lady Dimitrescu. She automatically shrunk back from the woman, overwhelmed to the point of almost going catatonic. Something broke through the haze though, the sight of those familiar villages at the mercy of women who seemed to be anything but human. Their fear was heavily broadcasted in the room, but as she gazed at them with her tired eyes she could see so much more. 

She could see remorse. 

"Please," Her voice was hoarse from crying. "Don't..." 

“You would have me spare them? They lured you here in hopes of their fate being your own.” Lady Dimitrescu stared at Clara with genuine surprise, not that the smaller woman noticed. The memories of the cellar were still fresh in her mind, the hanging body and putrid smell of blood.

She swayed in place, almost thankful for the restraining hold one of the other women had on her arms. It was mostly the only thing keeping her standing.

“Yes,” Clara’s lips trembled, eyes drooping. “Please don’t...don’t do those things you were saying.” She didn’t care if those men were using her as bait just as Mrs. Guérin had, no one deserved to be tortured.

Lady Dimitrescu hummed, eyes searching as she gazed down at Clara. Whatever it was she was looking for, the woman seemed to find it. In an instant Clara was no longer standing, rather she’d been swept up into the tall woman’s arms as if she were as light as a feather. The blonde girl couldn’t contain her gasp, tensing for a moment as she stared up into golden yellow eyes.

“As you wish," The soft words allowed the girl a flash of comfort and she found herself relaxing. The relief at knowing that no one else would be joining the many bodies down beneath the castle was enough to ease her discomfort, she couldn't bring herself to be mad at the villagers, people just trying to protect their loved one shouldn't be punished. She would do anything to protect what was left of her family, even if that meant packing up and moving thousands of miles away. 

"Darlings, make it quick.”

It took a moment for Clara to register the words, but horror bled into her face when the first scream pierced the air. “ _ No _ !” Her struggle was useless, Lady Dimitrescu was already carrying her away and her hold was ironclad on the smaller woman.

“Do not weep for them, little one.” The woman coo’d, wiping away tears Clara hadn’t even realized were falling. Her vision was going dull and dark, the last of her energy sapped in the face of such ruthless cruelty. “They would not have wept for you, you’re too pure for this world.”

Still though, no matter how tired she was Clara didn't stop her struggle. The girl twisted and writhed uselessly in her hold, breaking only one hand free to reach desperately toward where Mr. Thomas was kneeling on on the marble floor with the other men. She barely knew him, but out of everyone here he deserved death the least.

" _ Please! _ " She blinked away tears desperately, not noticing when the Lady paused at the foot of the stairs with a quiet tsk of disapproval, but her daughters paused in their endeavors. They watched their mother with rapt attention, knowing better than to cause any chaos when she was speaking.

"You'll hurt yourself more than you already have, little dove." Lady Dimitrescu shifted so all of her weight rested upon one arm, keeping the girl trapped against her effortlessly. She lifted the wrist of her free hand to her mouth, and bit down. Clara froze, blue eyes wide in mute horror as she watched a rivulet of blood slide down the woman's chin before cascading down to mix with the mess upon her nightgown. When she opened her mouth to ask  _ what she was doing _ the Lady charged down. 

Full lips caught Clara's, tongue plunging into her mouth to keep her from pulling away as something thick and hot followed. Fresh tears sprung into her eyes and she choked on the blood, having no choice but to swallow lest she drown in the other woman's sudden intrusion. What was at first a tactic to force the girl to submit was quickly used for more as Lady Dimitrescu deepened the kiss as if she were a starved woman and all she needed was Clara to sustain her. F ingers tangled into blonde curls, messaging her scalp softly for a moment before finally pulling back and allowing her to breathe once more. She trembled against Lady Dimitrescu, mind refusing to process what had just happened.

"Sleep, my sweet." The command was ensnaring, almost magical. Blue eyes began to droop immediately, body going limp as the last of her fight vanished. 

Clara could hear the screams though, even after the darkness swallowed her whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this entire chapter sucks, i'm so sorry lmao. Some of it feels kinda rushed to me because I was trying hard to get past the dungeon stuff but wanting to go into detail may have to be in another fic. I'm a fan of writing horror and have done a lot of research in human decomposition but kinda had a hard time writing it from Clara's view, I also didn't want to get too detailed with it since I didn't rank this fic for horror like I shoulda. so I hope I was able to translate how terrified she was properly. Basically, it's all kinda short and choppy because she's in actual shock. 
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos! They give me so much inspiration to keep the story rolling <3


	4. Soap & Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There is blood magic happening for some vague commands, also some minor non-consensual touching. It rounds out nicely though and Lady D knows when enough is enough. This is a shorter chapter wrapping up all the crazy from the last chapter and showing some of the dynamic between Mother and her 3 darling daughters.

"-can't follow simple instructions and _hold her down_ then you can dismiss yourself and send in someone more competent." Lady Dimitrescu's voice was as cold ice, every syllable tinted with barely contained rage that Clara couldn't quite make sense of. Paired with the gentleness of the woman's hands wrapped around her ankles, the anger projected was almost unfathomable.   
  
"I'm sorry, my Lady." Came the timid voice of someone right above her, rising more questions to the woman's fuzzy mind. What had woken her up? Them talking, or had it been something else. "I will do better, please continue."   
  
There was a pause, and then _pain._   
  
That's what had jolted her awake in the first place. Clara's feet were submerged in warm water, likely to help with the forstbite, but to her it felt as if her feet were being deep fried. Her back arched, blue eyes popping open as a short lived scream of pain shot free. She struggled for a moment, first trying to pull her feet free before realizing Lady Dimitrescu's hold was too tight, the maids hold on her arms was easier to fight against.   
  
After a few more precious seconds of suffering, her feet were lifted once more.   
  
"You'll do better," The vicious snarl was unlike anything she'd ever heard from the beautiful tall woman but her eyes had slipped shut on their own, the command still ringing in her ears and bouncing around in her head like the echo in an empty room.   
  
_Sleep, sleep, sleepsleepsleepsleep-_

"P-Please my Lady," The quiver in the strangers voice broke through the haze. There was a pause, more words exchanged that she missed as unconsciousness pulled her under once more, and then her feet were submerged again.   
  
The scream made her throat ache, body trembling from the pain but she remembered the anger, the vague threat carrying weight on words barely heard. It took everything Clara had not to thrash. Lady Dimitrescu held her in place longer this time, so long that eventually the agony ebbed to a dull throbbing pain.   
  
Finally, her feet were pulled free. The bowl was removed and in its place was a warm, fluffy towel.   
  
"Fetch me the basin and a fresh towel, then you may leave." The Lady's voice wasn't any warmer as she addressed the maid, but Clara didn't much care. Something was being wrapped around her feet and she was dropping off blissfully to the land of sleep once more. 

* * *

"Wake up, little dove." Long fingers were gently combing through her damp curls while something wet and hot was being dragged from her shoulder down to her collarbone. She forced her eyes open, not really understanding how simple commands had so much control over her.

Whatever room they were in was warm but Clara felt strange, cold even. Almost as if- she blinked up at Lady Dimitrescu, surprised to find the woman so close. The wet heat was dragged lower slowly, below her collarbones and down the valley between her breasts. It took a moment, probably a little too long if the amusement shinning in honey eyes was anything to go off of, for the blonde to realize she was naked.   
  
Her breath hitched, eyes growing wide as horror set in but Lady Dimitrescu held her close. Gentle words and hushes fell from the other other woman's lips as she tried to soothe Clara's panic and, despite how terrified she was, the woman's perfume was enough to ease her anxiety.   
  
"You can't rest properly until you're clean darling, sit up for me." No matter how strange the situation was, she was handled as if the taller woman was worried she'd fall apart at any second and soon enough Clara had been wrapped in a fluffy towel and was being lifted once more. Her head lolled against the Lady's shoulder, eyes heavy but refusing to shut as they went down a long hallway and into another room.   
  
"My daughter, Taya, she's the closest to your size." She was sat down on the most positively cloud like bed she'd ever felt. The towel was removed and a soft cotton black nightgown was slipped on over its place. She felt like an absolute child being cared for in such a manner, but really she was just _tired._ The nightgown was too big, the collar of it sliding off of one shoulder.   
  
Lady Dimitrescu hummed softly at the sight, but she didn't say much else as she lifted Clara once more to lay her against the pillows and pull the blankets over her. There were a million questions she wanted to ask, like what happened to the villagers, why was the bed so big, why was she keeping people in barrels in her cellar, and-   
  
"Are you going to kill me?" The words were spoken so softly for a moment she wasn't sure if the other woman even heard her, but then the bed was dipping beneath her as the distance between them was closed. Her vision was swimming, golden yellow eyes and ruby red lips breathing sweetness upon her own.   
  
Maybe it wasn't a perfume.   
  
"No," The single word forced Clara to open her eyes once more, when had she shut them? The bed was soft and comfortable and despite how cool Lady Dimitrescu was to the touch the warmth of having her so close was intoxicating. "I am not going to kill you."   
  
The woman seemed to hesitate for the briefest of moments, and then those same lips were brushing along her throat. Her stomach jumped, automatically freezing beneath her as those lips trailed down. Abruptly, the Lady licked a hot trail back up her throat forcing Clara to tip her head back with a gasp. Her heart was hammering a million miles a minute, body trembling beneath the other woman.   
  
The harrowing run through the forest, the dungeon and the bodies, the _screams,_ and now her body and mind were now at war.   
  
It was all too much. 

She burst into tears.

Lady Dimitrescu pulled back abruptly, eyes wide as she gazed down at the weeping younger woman. She was not unfamiliar with maidens crying beneath her, especially not when she was consumed with hunger, but this was different. She had no desire to consume Clara, well not in the way she _usually_ consumed a human. No, this little human was different and though her desires were near ravenous for the soft body beneath her, patience was a virtue.   
  
"You've had such an awful day," She cooed, wiping away tears with gentle fingers before pulling back to draw the blankets up further around the blonde woman. While her blood was still within her Alcina was able to work her magic, commands disguised as soft words to lull Clara off into a deep sleep. 

For once, she did not fall asleep to banging at her door or screams of fear. No, she fell asleep to the most beautiful lullaby she'd ever heard.   
  


* * *

"Hello, Mother." Three voices chorused as one. Alcina paused at the foot of the stairs, looking upon her three daughters fondly. Daniela had one of her hands buried in a mans gapping chest cavity while Taya and Yvaine were splitting what appeared to be a set of lung. Most of the bodies were already torn apart and at least partly devoured, but there were two corpses belonging to relatively healthy look women set aside.   
  
She had such good girls, saving her some of the best bits for dinner. Still though, the sun was rising and she had more duties to attend to than just being the Lady of the castle.   
  
"Darlings, you should go wash up and prepare for bed." Her tone was fond, motherly and firm but it seemed the three girls weren't scared of the tall woman in the slightest as they whined. Daniela was the most vocal, her youngest loathed bathes more than any other. "Come now my sweets, you can use my tub if you promise to be quiet."   
  
Yvaine instantly perked up at the offer, her biggest love in the entire castle besides her family was her mothers massive tub. The water fell at just the perfect angle to create a mountain of bubbles, she could remember her younger days with her sisters sloshing around in the water as mother tried to wrangle them in to actually wash.   
  
"Are we keeping her?" Taya spoke up before either of her sisters could, head tilting in a manner that was reminiscent to a curious kitten.   
  
"Yes, my love." Alcina answered without pause, seeming unbothered as she gathered Daniela into her arms when the girl tried to stealthily scuttle away. "She is resting, you know how fragile they are."   
  
Her smile grew more gentle as Yvaine lifted her own arms, a silent request to be lifted up along with her hissing wildcat of a sister. Taya followed along beside them, being the eldest she only sought out Mother's affection when she was ill or when mother was the first to initiate.   
  
As promised, the girls were silently herded into their mothers room. They passed the bed with curious eyes on the little human who had curled up in the middle of the massive bed, blonde hair a shinning halo against crimson silk pillows. The candlelight and glow of the fireplace cast shadows upon her pale skin, she looked so peaceful, so...  
  
"Pretty." Yvaine hardly ever spoke, preferring silence and little gestures opposed to words. Mother looked down at her little one with shinning eyes, a soft laugh filling the room. All of her daughters looked vaguely in awe of the sleeping beauty and she so loved that they were able to retain their childlike wonder with such simple things, even if it was happening more rarely than before.   
  
If the little human could give them that then she was even more sure of her decision.   
  
Clara was hers, it was only fair for a loving mother to share. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it was such a short chapter! I hope you all enjoy though! I took some creative jumps with the daughters and their personalities and overall dynamic. I also have like, two other RE Lady D fics that are crying for me to write them but I'm trying so hard to be strong lmao. 
> 
> My headcannon is that her daughters are still kind of young, just getting around angsty teenage age if I had to guess, so that's what we're rolling with. Daniela seems to have taken the role as the most temperamental of the three, so it made sense to me to have her as the youngest. I'm going to have a lot of fun making three kind of sweetish kids also be so careless while murdering humans :D
> 
> Thank you 100000000 times over for all the kudos and kind comments, Ya'll inspire me <3
> 
> PLEASE share any headcannons y'all have about the daughters! I'm so interested to hear!


	5. by your side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its the way you stand to the bruises of fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want to start out by saying im so sorry for the delay! i've been very sick, i had a cough that turned into bronchitis which developed costochondritis which, for those of you who have never had it, is incredibly painful especially when you cannot stop coughing. i ended up staying in the hospital for a few nights because i was so sick and could barely breathe. the medicine they ended up giving me once i was released makes me stupid sleepy and i just haven't had the energy to do anything other than sleep. of course, from there my classwork piled up and i missed some work. i'm slowly feeling better though and have been working on this chapter for you all. 
> 
> thank you for all the sweet comments and patience, i promise another update will come sooner this time! i'm sorry the chapter is a little on the small side but we're diving into some of the plot aspects. 
> 
> to clear up some confusion from previous chapters!! Alcina didn't bite Clara, she bit her OWN wrist, had some of her blood in her mouth, and basically force fed it to Clara. This is how she words her "blood magic". my idea is that it's essentially like how classical vampire "compel" their victims but it seemed more creepy to do it via blood than just eye contact. 
> 
> There are a few romanian words/phrases i used, i'm super sorry if they're wrong at all and please correct me if they are. i used a mix of google translate and websites with listed words and their meanings. i plan to add more of these into the story to make it feel more authentic. 
> 
> Bietul meu înger mic. - My poor small angel  
> iubi - baby, sweetheart, lover, darling 
> 
> more notes at the end!

_She was scared, heart beating frantically as she tried to crawl backwards._

"Don't be scared, little dove." That hypnotic voice, cool fingers running through her hair. 

_So terrified, the memories were running on repeat. She wanted it all to stop, to forget-_

"I can take it away, my sweet." _The woman was all around her, pressing down, down, down._ "All you have to do is-"

_The metallic tang of blood on her tongue, something compelling being whispered._

* * *

The dream faded away like ocean foam on a passing breeze, evaporating into nothingness as blue eyes dragged open. She was in an unfamiliar room, nestled on a bed that was much too soft to be her own. She would have been content to doze back off to sleep, but there was an ache spreading across her body that couldn't be ignored. 

There was movement to her left, drawing attention across the room to the beautiful woman sitting in a massive chair in front of the fireplace. Clara blinked slowly, memories foggy as she tried to recall what had led to her being in a stranger's room. 

She was drawing a blank, the last thing she remembered was...the shower at Mr Thomas's house, and that was it. When had she gone to bed? Or...to _this_ bed?

"Hello, little dove." The woman had a breath-taking smile, but as she stood her breath was snatched for an entirely different reason. It was the same woman from before, outside her house. Why did that seem so long ago? She struggled to sit up in the bed, arms weak and shaking. "Don't push yourself too hard, sweet girl." 

Clara blinked and the woman was beside her, fingers sprawled across her chest draping over her collarbones as she pressed the smaller woman back into the bed. 

"Where am I?" Her voice was hoarse as if she'd been screaming, but she couldn't remember anything about that. How long had she been asleep?

"You're in my home, do you not remember?" The woman cooed softly, running her fingers through blonde curls. Blue eyes drooped as the sensation drew something oddly familiar from her. "Your home burnt in the night, I found you outside and brought you in." 

Those same fingers dragged down the length of her hair, trailing along the junction where her shoulder and neck met. Clara didn't remember any of that, it was just a blank slate of grey. Really though, there was no reason for this woman to lie right?

"Oh," Clara fell back into the mattress fully, eyes moving between the pretty woman and the ceiling as she tried to digest this information. "So I’m...homeless?" 

She’d put most of her savings into getting that shitty house, there weren't any other ones for sale either. The villagers were going to get what they wanted, she'd have to move away. 

The woman stared down at her with confusion for a moment, forcing Clara to vocalize her thoughts. 

" _Bietul meu înger mic_." Her accent was thick as she spoke foreign, unfamiliar words. She sat down on the edge of the bed, creating a dip that the smaller woman slid right into. She barely had a moment to register the sudden proximity when she was being swept into the Lady's lap with a squeak. 

"You will stay with me until you're healed and back on your feet," There was no space in her voice for argument, but Clara was a stubborn little thing.  
  
“I-I don’t want to impose-” Her mouth snapped shut with an audible click as she was suddenly lifted, dainty hands automatically clutching at the woman's shoulders as her breath stuttered in her lungs. She really _was_ tall, and even being held against her as they stood Clara had to look up at her.  
  
“I don’t even know your name!” She was slightly overwhelmed, shaking in the woman's arms as she stared with wide eyes. It was bizarre for some stranger to be so generous, but this was some next level stuff. Why was she so... _touchy?_ They’d barely spoken all of ten words before today but the beautiful lady had an air of possessiveness, it was carefully masked but still lingering in every look and touch.  
  
It was all unfamiliar and a little scary, no one had ever held her or looked at her the way this woman does, especially when Clara’s body ached so badly and she was so much _smaller_ . She felt defenseless and weak but the woman seemed to know exactly how she felt because she was being so gentle and soft as she soothed her worries.  
  
“My name is Alcina Dimitrescu, I am the Lady of this castle.” _Castle?? What-_ Before she could even begin to process that (it made sense, there _was_ a whole ass fireplace in her bedroom) Alcina was striding out of the room, ducking slightly to pass through the door. The halls were befitting of a castle, ceilings high and extravagant .  
  
“Where are you taking me?” Her voice was small, scared still and the Lady paused in the hall. Alcina hadn’t realized just how fragile this little human was, she would truly have to build up to her normal nature in order for Clara to come out of her shell.  
  
“Relax darling, no harm will come to you while you’re with me.” Or ever, if she had any say in it. The blonde woman seemed to believe her though, tense little shoulders ease as her fingers lessen their death grip and smooth the fabric of her dress. “I made sure there was food ready for when you woke, you must be famished.”  
  
Now that she mentioned it, Clara _was_ quite hungry. She felt as if she hadn’t eaten in days, perhaps that was why her body refused to move as she wanted. Slowly, she began to relax in Alcina’s hold and believe the strange woman's words.  
  
There was no reason _not_ to trust her, she’d brought her in from the cold and was trying to nurse her back to health. There were bandages wrapped around the soles of her feet and up to her ankles. While she was horribly embarrassed at the idea of someone else dressing her, the nightgown was soft and blocked out the chill of the castle.  
  
The walk to the dining room was silent from there, both seemingly lost in their own thoughts. However, the spread of food on the table upon entering was...intense. It looked as if they were hosting for twenty people, not just themselves.  
  
What was even weirder was that Alcina made no move to eat once they’d settled. She held Clara on her lap, one arm around her waist as she pulled her back into her soft bosom, the proximity was enough to make her face flush prettily.  
  
There were maids and butlers lined along the walls, standing silent and with their heads bowed as they awaited their Lady’s orders and it was just so _strange_ , was this kind woman royalty or something? She had to be, she lived in a castle.  
  
With her free hand Alcina led spoonful after spoonful of a hearty soup to Clara’s lips, she didn’t even argue, her arms felt like jello and the help was appreciated. Only after she’d also eaten some of the fluffiest bread ever made did she begin to genuinely feel better, if not a little sleepy.  
  
At some point the woman had begun to hum softly as Clara melted against her, eyes fluttering shut once more. She dozed off to that soft melody in a cooly comfortable embrace. 

* * *

“She’s asleep again?” Daniela was pouting as she leaned closer to Clara, the blonde was nestled into their mothers lap, head lolled upon one of her breasts as she dozed peacefully. Her youngest looked fidgety, like she was tempted to poke the humans cheek to see if she’d wake up. “Human’s sure do sleep a lot.”  
  
“I had the cooks add a mild sedative to the broth, she will heal faster the more she sleeps.” Alcina smiled softly, fingers sweeping smoothly across the slumbering girls clothed stomach. “Go fetch your sisters, we’ll dine together once I put her to bed.”  
  
She was left in silence until Daniela’s footsteps faded, having dismissed the help the moment Clara nodded off. The pure innocence that radiated from her as she slept was a sight for herself and her daughters alone, Alcina was a selfish creature by nature and she cultivated the things she held dear with a possessiveness that should appear scary at first.  
  
Clara would get used to it, just as she had once more all those years ago.  
  
Her mind wandered to the portrait that hung in the great hall, now covered by a thick cloth, and the likeness it held. They weren’t the same person, she knew that logically, but she had come back to her in a way.  
  
She would always come back, that was their fate.  
  
Their curse.  
  
She stifled a sigh as she rose, pausing as the little blonde let out a soft noise and snuggled closer. Her breath hitch as the smooth skin of her little human’s cheek brushed along the exposed top of her breast, heat instantly pooling in her belly at the simple contact.  
  
Alcina would break the curse this time, she was doing everything different. Her girls would finally have the loving family they deserve, they would all be happy.   
  


* * *

Clara slept wonderfully, she dreamt of pleasant things like soft bunnies and shinning stars. She wasn't sure how long she slept for, just that when she finally woke back up she was much more well rested. The ache had dulled some, though her body was still sore it was nothing compared to the night before.   
  
Light was shinning in through the massive windows, a rainbow of colors bouncing off the crystal chandelier over head and casting pretty little shimmers across the entire room. This time, she woke up alone. The fireplace was still well lit though and it kept the room comfortably warm, just so that the young woman didn't feel much dread about crawling out of her blanket cocoon.   
  
The bed was _massive_ , blankets heavy and smooth to her skin as she slid out from beneath them and basically crawled to the edge. The bed was also pretty high up, so much aso that her feet hung with plenty space to spare over the edge. Talk about embarrassing.   
  
Huffing, the blonde slid off of the edge. The sudden spike of pain shooting through her feet upon making contact with the cold marble floor was so surprising that she crumbled to the floor in a heap with a soft cry of startled pain.   
  
The bathroom door banging off the wall loudly as Alcina charged out. She was by her side in an instant, soft hands pulling Clara up until she was sat back on the edge of the bed. The taller woman looking mildly frantic as she looked her over for any injuries, honey eyes blown wide. It was really hard to focus on her anxieties though when the silk robe she wore was sliding open revealing the full slope of her breasts to the girls wide eyed gaze.  
  
"Why were you on the floor? Are you okay, _i **u** bi?" _Once again, something she'd said was in a language Clara didn't know. She had it guess it was Romanian, which made sense given the fact of where they were, but even the villagers rarely spoke to her in that language. Also, her brain was short circuiting. The robe was slipping further, gifting her the sight of stretch marks faded from the passage of time.   
  
_Pretty._  
  
Her face flushed as Alcina seemed to get even more concerned with her silence, leaning closer to press a hand to her cheek and check her temperature. The closer she got, the more she could see. Abruptly she twisted away from the woman, dropping fully into the bed to press her flaming face into the mattress.   
  
" _Mmmbpbatheoroebe_." Her words were muffled and flustered, leaving the woman even more confused and concerned as she leaned over her and tried to get to her look at her. It took nearly five minutes for Clara to stop trying to make her best impression of a bed bound ostrich and by the time the older woman understood what had the girl so flushed she was practically purring.   
  
Knowing just the sight of some exposed skin left Clara such a little mess did wonders for her ego, what she wouldn't give to discard the robe completely and worship the soft body...but such thoughts were dangerous. She couldn't hide what she was forever, and she wouldn't be able to hide it at all if she actually took the girl in the ways her body yearned to. Primal instincts were roaring for her to lay claim and leave her mark upon the little human, but decades of self control kept her at bay.   
  
"You had some minor frost bite on your feet, it will take a while for them to heal enough for you to walk." She ran a soothing hand down the girls spine, enjoying the little shiver of pleasure the movement drew out and repeating the motion to see if she can draw it forth once more. "I will take care of you, little dove."   
  
"Come, I've run a bath for you before we start our day." Clara instantly peaked out at the mention of a bath, blushing harder when she realized Alcina made no effort to adjust the robe and conceal herself. The prospect of hot water won over her embarrassment though, her little house had a water heater that only worked half the time. If the water was as glorious feeling as the steam billowing out of the open bathroom door suggested, she may never want to leave the castle.   
  
She allowed herself to be lifted, stomach clenching as she was pressed close to all of that exposed skin. Was the other woman doing it on purpose? It sure seemed like it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah ha! so to clear any confusion right away, if you havent read the note at the start of this chapter please do! yes, Alcina used her blood magic to make Clara forget the Trauma tm, it ties into plot! i also made the main plot pretty transparent but i'd love to hear yalls theories in the comments! 
> 
> next chapter will be a little steamy ;) but this will be more of a slowish burn as our Vampire Queen tries to win over Clara! i have lots of cute romancey things planned for future chapters~!
> 
> thank you all for the feedback and kudos, i'll go through and respond to everyones comments tomorrow when im not totally slumped from my meds. on that note if theres a horror inducing amount of spelling errors im sorry, being sick makes me brain the equivalent of a lump of coal.


	6. the hollow beat of life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i know that most feelings are fleeting, but i feel like i could make a home out of this one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all your kind words <3 I'm feeling better today so here another chapter! it gets a little steamy while still keeping a touch of plot in there. next chapter will be daughters!!! 
> 
> Draga mea - My darling  
> Puişorul meu - My baby bird
> 
> A few things! This story has been bumped to a higher rating because of this chapter and likely later chapters to come. Also, chapters have expanded! This will now be longer than 15 chapters oops- 
> 
> This story has a pinterest! I do this for all of my books be it fics or published so if you want to check it out let me know what you think! it's part of the creative process tm 
> 
> https://pin.it/3G8Yvey

This was the most extravagant bathroom Clara had ever seen. No, really. She had literally never seen a bathroom such as this. It was just as big as the room, the pretty white and grey marble covered the floor and walls, wide pillars surrounding the massive in ground tub that looked big enough to fit five people comfortably. The eye catch of the bathroom was defiantly the tub and it's surroundings. On three sides of it's wide edges were stained widows, colorful pictures painting a story that seemed to be the history of three different families. Alcina was in the middle window.   
  
Above the tub though, spread across the ceiling, was a perfect picture of the night skies constellations. Clara couldn't quite tell if it was a painting or not, because it _looked_ real. Stars were twinkling and a shooting star shot from one corner to the other right before her eyes like magic. It couldn't be though, because morning light was still shinning through the windows and painting the room in a kaleidoscope of colors.   
  
She was left in silent awe as she was set down on the edge of the tub, eyes drawn to the ceiling while the woman removed the bandages from her feet. The water was steaming pleasantly, a soft floral scent hovering in the air suggested the use of of some bathing oils. It wasn't until she felt cool fingers tugging at the hem of her nightgown that Clara realized just what Alcina's intentions were.   
  
"W-wait!" She automatically moved to grab the woman's wrist, embarrassed when her fingers didn't even wrap around fully. Was she really that much smaller? A perfectly sculpted eyebrow rose up, amusement on her face shining as clear as the stars overhead did. "I..."   
  
There was no good argument, not as she put all the pieces together. Alcina had her hair loose, curls falling softly to brush her shoulders where the silky bathrobe was sliding away. She hadn't bathed yet, it wasn't hard to piece together the puzzle of what she had planned. Clara just wasn't sure how to say _no_. 

"My daughters and I aren't as uncomfortable with nudity, if you would prefer I leave you though..." The disappointment was clear in her voice and it made her stomach clench. Logically, she shouldn't feel _bad_ about asking to bathe alone and protect her modesty, but Alcina had been nothing but kind to her. The woman wasn't the one wrapped up in borderline sexual embarrassment, _she was_ and she needed to get over herself.   
  
Of course, the poor human had no way of knowing that Alcina was very much so using this as an opportunity to begin her slow seduction of the young woman. In fact, having her naked in her tub was the height of several sexual fantasies. If she had to take things slow for the comfort of the little human she still wanted some enjoyment from the process.   
  
"No, it's okay." Clara's face was flushed, easy enough to blame on the heat of the room and not the situation at hand. She shakily removed her own nightgown and undergarments, chin tucked down in embarrassment until a cool finger forced her to raise her face once more. Alcina had discarded her robe and stood before Clara in all her glory, the sight enough to take her breath away. Distantly she heard the woman telling her not to be embarrassed, but there was white-noise ringing in her ears.   
  
_Oh my god._ She quickly averted her gaze, trying hard not to let her eyes drop below the woman's collarbones. The brief glance had been enough though, full breasts, soft belly and thick thighs. Her pale moon kissed skin was littered with faded stretch marks and what appeared to be little scars but she hadn't taken the time to look too closely. _She's beautiful.  
  
_Alcina laughed, genuine and happy in a way that felt as if she'd let her guard down. It took a moment for Clara to realize she'd spoken aloud, face flushing so hot that tears sprung up in her eyes from the sheer embarrassment. Before she could even begin to apologize, she was being lifted from the edge of the tub and into Alcina's arms. It seemed the woman wanted to eliminate any chance of her trying to make an escape because in an instant they were submerged in the hot water with Clara balanced in her lap.   
  
She hissed in pain, instinctively wiggling to escape the assault of agony that accompanied hot water meeting her injuries. Smooth arms held her in place though, tilting her smaller body so she was sitting sideways in the woman's lap with her side pressed flush against her large body. Clara half curled in on herself as she fought back a sob, giving up the fight to instead press closer to the only source of comfort she had.   
  
"It _hurts!"_ And it did, like little knives were being driven into her feet over and over again.   
  
_"Puişorul meu,"_ She spoke softly, rocking them in place gently as she soothed the crying girl. It was a blessing that she didn't remember the first time she'd had her wounds dressed, it had been so much more painful than this. Once she was healed fully they'd truly be able to truly enjoy a bath together, but until then Clara would suffer the pain of her injured feet soaking until the agony dulled into an ache.   
  
She filled the silence though, tilting them back so that the little human could gaze up at the stars.   
  
"Do you know the constellations?" Cool breath fanned across her face as Clara shook her head, excitement suddenly brimming from the older woman as she adjusted her hold once more. "See there? There’s Orion, the only man to ever run alongside the huntress Artemis. Do you see his bow?"   
  
The woman lifted an arm, pointing up to trace the pattern of the bow for her. She went on to speak of what an amazing huntress Artemis had been, her melodic voice giving Clara something else to focus on other than the pain. After awhile longer, the pain had eased to a less intense ache and her tears had dried. She was relaxed now, head resting against the other woman, enjoying listening to her speak of the stars.   
  
"-constellations Aquila, Cygnus and Lyra." She was saying, pointing out the locations of the stars in question. There was something off in her tone though, something that hinted at the fact that this story had a deeper meaning. _Perhaps it was a favorite of hers._ "The star Altair in the Aquila constellation symbolizes a poor shepherd child named Niu Lang and the star Vega from the constellation Lyra symbolizes a weaver girl named Zhi Nu."   
  
"The two fell hopelessly in love with each other, but their parents resented their love and forbade the relationship. They separated them from each other, there are many stories about the reason their love was forbidden. In the story I learned, the shepherd was born to a mortal family and the weaver girl created by the gods." She paused, arm lowering to wrap around Clara's waist once more. She was absentmindedly tracing patterns across her side with her finger tips, eyes set on the star ceiling and yet they seemed so far away.   
  
The small woman shifted in her lap, water rippling around her shoulders with the movement.   
  
"There is another version of the story," She spoke softly, seeming not to have come back to herself quite yet. "The gods cursed them for their love. In all stories the lovers are separated by a river. In the sky, Altair and Vega are separated by a galaxy, but in this version they're separated by something so much worse."   
  
There was a long pause as both women stared up at the ceiling and sat in the hot water, Alcina lost in her thoughts and Clara lost in the woman's pensive beauty.   
  
"What separated them?" She found herself asking, the woman seemed to come back to herself the instant she spoke. She looked down at the little human, heart twisting at the innocent curiosity that shinned back up at her.   
  
"Mortality." Clara's breath was taken at the sadness that leeched from Alcina, she found herself aching to distract her but not quite knowing how to do so.  
  
Alcina returned her steady gaze, taking in her flushed skin and wide eyed doe like beauty. She tried to control herself, she really did, but having her in her arms naked and looking at her in such a way was simply too much. She moved slowly, giving Clara time to pull away before their lips met if she so chose.   
  
When she was met with no resistance she pushed forward, nipping at the girls bottom lip before slowly pushing into her mouth.   
  
Clara felt fuzzy, eyes slipping shut as she whimpered into the kiss. She wasn't sure how they went from talking about the stars to the other woman kissing her with a slow sensuality, as if she had nothing better to do than explore the depths of her mouth. Her entire body felt hot, something warm pooling in her stomach and spreading lower. Clara found herself arching and aching for the woman's touch, her taste was intoxicating and nimble fingers were dancing lower on her stomach.   
  
A cool hand dipped between her thighs, cupping her sex and drawing a gasp from the younger woman as her mouth was finally released. She took in sharp breathes, eyes fluttering open to gaze up at Alcina. The uncertainty and desire were clear as day in the girls eyes, reminding the woman that she wanted to take things _slow_.   
  
"If you want me to stop, I will." She leaned closer, pausing for a moment and waiting for any rejection. When none came, Alcina kissed along her jaw, nibbling on her earlobe and sucking on the sensitive spot just below it. When Clara moaned and arched into her, she slid a single finger between wet folds to brush along that sensitive little bundle of nerves.   
  
That was quite literally all it took to push her over the edge. Clara's mind exploded with a wave of pleasure, a whine dragging from her throat as her legs jerked and shook and she held onto Alcina as if she were her lifeline. With her eyes shut she still saw stars, confusion and fear of this unknown pleasure battling with the desire that was coiling tightly in her belly.   
  
The other woman was purring softly as she caressed the little bud once more, dragging along her pleasure she whispered sweet nothing in the girls ear as she came down from her orgasm. The fact that she could work her up so easily and bring her to completion with the simplest of touches was _delicious,_ she knew though that Clara wasn't ready for all of her. No matter how much she wished to take her fully and mark her so the whole world knew she was _hers_ , she held back.   
  
_Mine._ The growl that rumbled low in her chest went unnoticed by the smaller woman as she rode out her pleasure, moaning as Alcina sucked and nibbled on her throat. She was finding all the sensitive little sweet spots, leaving hickies on the ones that made her tremble and gasp. It was the closest she would get to marking Clara without burying her fangs in the poor girls neck.   
  
"Good girl," She purred, dragging that finger from her clit between her folds. She could feel how wet she was, even in the bath. Alcina set a teasing pace, moving from her bud to her core with little strokes and letting the tip of her finger dip in just barely before curling up to brush against a spot that made Clara gasp, and then pull back out to repeat her motions. "If you keep making those sounds I won't be able to stop myself."   
  
The younger woman was beyond lost in the sudden onslaught of pleasure, embarrassment buried as she gasped and whined and withered against the other woman. Another orgasm was building up like the waves of an ocean, threatening to overwhelm her as she clutched at Alcina. Sparks of electricity shot down her spine when their breasts rubbed together as she arched above the water, nipples pebbled with arousal.   
  
"Please-!" She was so close to the edge, mind hazy and desperate as her hips jerked down. Her body was seeking something she wasn't even aware of, longing to be filled to the brim but being left without the satisfaction.   
  
" _Dr **a** ga me **a,**_ " Unfamiliar words but soft kisses were being feathered across her face until she reached her lips. "Shhh, that's it darling, come for me."   
  
This orgasm ripped through her, a soft scream of sheer pleasure leaving her lips before her mouth was swallowed in a bruising kiss. Clara lost track of time as wave after wave washed over her, ebbing down slowly. The other woman only pulled away when her breathing began to steady, golden eyes shinning proudly down at the flushed woman.   
  
She came to some time later, not even realizing she had dozed off until she was being lifted from the water. The smaller woman jolted as cool air met her sensitive skin, turning to press against the other woman for more warmth until she was wrapped in a fluffy towel three times too big for her. Blue eyes blinked owlishly up at Alcina's smirking face, the older woman still seemed awfully smug about what had happened.   
  
"I should apologize, I may have pushed too hard too soon, you're still recovering after all." The woman was wrapped in her own towel, hair dripping rivulets of water down her skin and making Clara's mouth feel bone dry. Her gaze was intense, burning almost as she gently stroked the girl's cheek. She made quick work of bathing both of them after, the maids were on a schedule after-all. "But I am no saint, and you are a work of art."   
  


* * *

There were maids waiting for them as Alcina carried her out after having rewrapped her feet. She set Clara down on the bed before walking behind the changing screen and allowing the handmaiden to help her change into one of her pretty white dresses. They presented a pretty white and maroon dress to the younger woman, who stared at it like it was a foreign object. _Was that...a corset? And laces?_ It was easy not to think about what had happened in the bathroom when faced with this dress.   
  
She'd never wore anything like it before, in fact Clara didn't wear many dresses or skirts at all. She had aways been more of a pants girl, leggings or jeans or just whatever was most comfortable really. Though, she supposed if her house burnt down all of the comfy clothes were gone.   
  
Alcina strode out from screen, she'd dressed in a white dress that had pretty lace clinging to her exposed cleavage and there was a long slit in the side that exposed her smooth leg and thigh with every step. Clara especially liked how the woman's calf flexed with the heels she was wearing when she walked, but she was trying awfully hard not to think about her naked body.   
  
There were times and places for such things, apparently the bath was one of those places.   
  
The other woman seemed to notice her expression of uncertainty because she dismissed the help before approaching.   
  
"I'm sorry I don't have anything more comfortable, there are some older dresses I had from...my daughters, when they were younger." Golden eyes bore down on her appraisingly, glinting with an unfamiliar emotion that Clara couldn't quite place. She didn't argue though when she helped her into the dress, only frowning when the lace was tightened. The cut was almost uncomfortable, the sewn in corset pushing her breasts up to be more on display than she would have normally been comfortable with.   
  
"You look exquisite," Alcina breathed the words from behind her, leaning over her shoulder and looking at her in the full body mirror across the room. Clara's breath caught in her throat as she met the woman's smoldering eyes, feeling trapped in her gaze for a long moment before she was finally able to close her eyes and take a steadying breath.   
  
"Come, I wish to introduce you to my daughters and then we will eat." She lifted Clara once more, hold gentle and despite her inner turmoil she relaxed into the woman's hold.   
  
That unfamiliar emotion, she realized, looked an awful lot like hunger. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos to you if you noticed the last name, it was on purpose. Plot plot plot!


End file.
